Follow the Leader
by chespin
Summary: He's doing it in the interest of mankind. — Haru, Irie.


disclaimer: still don't own a thing; mistakes and typos are all mine, though, and my caffeine-deprived mind.  
notes: ha... Irie's character is based off his tyl! self, though considering that his fifteen year old self has those memories, I'd kind of expect him to be a jittery mess. also also, this is mostly character study and situation study - like, if this happened, then what? it's not conclusive and not particularly shippy, though you could read into irie/haru. :D

* * *

**Follow the Leader**

* * *

"What," she says loudly. "Do you have a problem with it?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, no, I just – uh… I thought…"

Haru frowns at him. The stuttering thing is endearing when _Tsuna_ does it; when Irie struggles to form words, Haru just gets annoyed.

"You thought what?" Her mouth is a flat line and Irie appropriately huddles down in his chair. "That I would throw away _my_ dreams just because they don't perfectly align with what _you_ think? Besides," she adds with a sniff, "everyone can use a good costume designer."

Irie's mouth twitches. It's not a smile; it's more of a weary grimace that disappears as he says softly, "It's not about what I think. It's about what you want."

"I want to be a costume designer," Haru says, enunciating each word carefully. "I'll be in _Italy_, in Europe, I'm sure I'll find something to do."

"Yeah," he says, reaching for the textbook he had laid out on her desk. It's for some high-level physics class that Haru had tested into but not bothered to take. "I'm sure you'll find a lot of things to do."

He packs the book into his bag and gets up, his knees cracking. He's been coming to her dorm every other day without fail; he's the brainiac between the two of them but Haru's the one who grew up with a math professor, so she tutors him in calculus and he tells her vague stories about their idiot friends in Italy. (There's also the fact that Tsuna had forced Irie to promise to look after Haru, given that they were going to attend the same college, but that's neither here nor there.)

It's a good system, a working system, and he's the only actual friend she has in this huge, sprawling mess of a school.

"I should go," he says, tucking the book under his arm. Haru watches him from her bed, wondering if she should chew her lip or throw her pillow at him. "I'll, uh. I'll see you later?"

"Later," Haru manages to say.

The door clicks shut behind him. Haru's roommate wanders in at some point, a drunken blush high on her cheeks, and asks dazedly where the redhead went.

And she asks again the next day, and the next, and Haru's starting to run out of theories.

* * *

"Your boyfriend totally _ditched_ you," Akiko says with a laugh. She's completely sober for once: finals are approaching and she's suddenly aware of the fact that her class notes are lacking. "See, I told you. High school romances just don't last in college."

"Not my boyfriend, not a high school romance," Haru says from her bed.

"Middle school, then?" Akiko looks up from her biology notes and starts to snicker. "Whatever. I'm just sad because he's not bad to look at _and_ he's, like, a genius so his brains would be really useful. Right now," she adds pointedly.

Haru rolls over so she's facing Akiko instead of the wall and grabs her phone from the floor. "Here," she says, tossing it over. It misses Akiko's head by a fingerbreadth. "He's somewhere in there, call him and make a study date."

Akiko stops pressing down her hair and scowls at Haru. "_I_ don't need a study date. _You_ need a study date."

"Not my boyfriend," Haru repeats vaguely. She glances around their small room for her backpack. Her finals are coming up too; she should study, even if she could pass in her sleep. Costuming is fantastic, but it's also a _practical_ art, and all of her professors agree that tests are a waste of time and paper.

Akiko's mouth opens and then closes. She settles for a loud "Ugh" and turns back to her notes, grumbling about protein levels and enzymes.

* * *

"_So…Tsuna told me something interesting_." Kyouko sounds out of breath; just back from track practice, Haru guesses. She hazards a look down at her not quite flat stomach and winces.

"Did it have anything to do with my intrepid bodyguard?" Haru asks. She twists a pen around her fingers, watching the light reflect off the red plastic. "I don't get why it's such a big deal, it's just a _major_. Not like the fate of the universe depends on it."

There's silence on the other line, save for the rushed sound of Kyouko's breathing.

Haru stops twirling her pen. "Please tell me the fate of the universe doesn't depend on it."

"_Not quite_," Kyouko says, laughing. "_It's just…the boys remember things from that future. I guess…they were hoping you'd do what you did there._"

"…Which was?" Haru hadn't bothered to ask before; she didn't, doesn't, care about what her older self had done. It doesn't _matter_; that future is gone, poof, and that Haru disappeared with it.

"_Science, I think_." Kyouko's voice falters. "_I'm not supposed to know, so there's not much else I can tell you_."

"But Irie would know," Haru says. Her legs slip off from where they'd been resting on her desk. "Which explains why he gets so _twitchy_ every time I _mention_ a sewing machine."

"_That…might be for another reason. Like, memories of how you regularly threatened to disembowel Gokudera with a needle._"

Haru's barely listening. She tugs on her socks, slings a light jacket over her shoulders, and slips into a pair of shoes waiting by the door. She says a hasty goodbye to Kyouko and jams a baseball cap over her head.

It's like going to war, she tells herself on the walk to Irie's dorm. Prepare yourself and march.

* * *

He opens the door in his boxers and a ratty t-shirt. His headphones are looped around his neck and his glasses are valiantly hanging onto his nose.

"_Gross_," Haru says. Irie makes a face but steps back to let her in. "What if I were your mother?"

He scratches his cheek. "She gave birth to me," he says finally. "I don't think there's much of me she hasn't seen."

Haru says gross again and sits on his bed, her back against the wall. His roommate is – thankfully – not here; he's taken some sort of interest in Akiko and all of his conversations with Haru end up with him asking for her dorm key.

"So," she says, clasping her hands together. Irie sits at his desk, his body facing the door but his head tilted towards her. "I talked to Kyouko a couple of minutes ago."

"…And?" he asks, squinting. Haru would laugh if she didn't know he would take it the wrong way. Irie is a lot like Tsuna, but he's more like Gokudera in his complete inability to _relax_.

"She said that the old future me—" Haru frowns at the wording, but he nods in understanding so she plows on, "that she was, I don't know, some sort of science or tech person? And that you guys were hoping that I would be the same way?"

She waits as he takes off his glasses and polishes them on the hem of his shirt. Haru knows that _he_ knows all about the future, and she wonders if this Irie is the same as the future one, if he pushes himself to every extreme to make up for past sins.

"It's not that we want you to," he says eventually. He doesn't put his glasses back on and Haru doesn't ask why. "It's more like…the family could use you – use your talent – and that's what we were wondering."

"The family has scientists," Haru says, tugging on the loose fabric of her jeans. "You, and Spanner, and Giannini… Don't tell me that I'm _so_ good at math that they couldn't function without me."

Irie laughs; it's a quiet, halting sound that reminds her that he, unlike Tsuna, didn't get around to making friends until his late teens. "Your future self," he says, "was researching the mechanical aspects of box weapons – the theory behind rings and flames. From what I understand, you were making…some progress."

"…I had nothing," Haru translates, only feeling a little disappointed. "So…what? Tsuna wants me to do that here? Stop with the cosplays and start with the science?"

"Not Tsuna," Irie says hastily. "This is…my suggestion, and some people's in Italy. Actually, Tsuna's really happy you're sticking with costume design."

"But Kyouko said—" Haru starts, and stops. What Kyouko knows is secondhand from Tsuna, and Tsuna's well versed in half-truths. So Haru starts again, saying slowly, "He's happy because it keeps me out of the mafia."

He fidgets, shuffling his feet. "Uh. Yeah, that's…pretty much it."

Haru breathes out. There's a pit in her stomach that's only getting bigger with every second; she's smart, always been smart, and she sees where this conversation is going.

"So basically," she says, staring at the notes tacked to the ceiling (Irie is a freakish bookworm, and rereading his notes before bed helps him sleep), "what you're telling me is that, at this moment, I have no use to the family."

There's a long pause, during which Haru reads the laws of thermodynamics and Irie stares at his fingernails.

Then he shifts, lets out a sigh, and says, "Yes."

Haru feels herself nodding. "So – that's it? I pick between sewing and math – my dream and my friends?"

She's only a little bitter. Kyouko's studying psychology and Italian, slowly preparing herself for her future as a mafioso's wife. Kyouko's _always_ had worth by virtue of Tsuna; Haru's going to have to claw her way into that life, hand over needles and threads for guns and test tubes.

(She wants it. She _wants_ to be jolted out of a normal life for some stupid, whimsical reason and she really can't help it.)

"Fantastic," Haru says to herself. Then she draws her knees close to her chest and looks around the room, her eyes lingering on the closet and under Irie's roommate's bed. "So? Don't lie and tell me you have no alcohol."

"Uh." Irie blinks, and whatever had taken over his demeanor is gone and he's back to a stuttering mess. "I – I don't drink."

"He does," Haru says, pointing at the empty bed. "I know he does. I know _you_ do too, but I'll let you stay in your bubble. Now, alcohol. Where is it?"

He mumbles something to himself as he gets out of his chair and stumbles over to the closet; Haru doesn't pay attention, instead focusing on the Pepsi bottle Irie pulls out. There's a foggy liquid inside that makes Haru's throat burn in anticipation.

"It's strong," he says, grabbing a red cup from his desk drawer. He only half fills it and hands it to her, wary. "…Please don't vomit on my bed."

"Haru will try," she says sarcastically, downing two mouthfuls. She manages not to wince or choke, but it's a near thing. "To my advisor," Haru says after a minute, raising her cup to the air. "Poor guy's gonna have an aneurism when he realizes I just…wasted a year's classes…a year's tuition…"

Haru turns to Irie, who raises his arms up in defense. "I thought I was being obvious!" he said, clearly fighting the urge to hide behind his desk. "I mean, I kept asking you for help and talking about physics – I thought you'd change your mind soon, anyway, and besides, you like your classes, right? You got to have the experience and everything—"

"Shouichi," Haru says, smiling at him. He pales. "When you're working for the mafia – as my underling, hopefully – you're going to pay me back for this year. Every. Cent."

He nods. He really doesn't have a choice when it comes to her.

* * *

"So." Haru drags out the word, savoring the way Tsuna slowly starts retreating further into himself the longer she stares at him. "_So_, I have things to tell you."

The boys are home after a year spent in Italy; they're sunburnt and stuttering over their words, but they're home and Haru figures it's as good a time as any to let Tsuna know about her plans.

"I'm majoring in physics," she tells him. His eyes widen and he starts to protest. Haru points two fingers at him, in the shape of a gun, and he quiets. "It's not about you. It's about…" It's about her, mostly, and how she's not getting left behind ever again, even if that means hanging up her Namehage costume for most of the year. "It's about a lot of things," she says instead, "and I'm doing it and if you don't hire me, I'll go work for your dad or the Varia."

Tsuna groans.

"Yeah, so it'd be better if _you_ hire me." Haru traces the cracks and lines on the table; it's been in Tsuna's room for as long as she's known him, and it's still here now. "I'm good, I'm really, really good, and you're going to have to get over me being there."

"Haru…"

"Future me," she says over him, "never got anywhere with the flames research. _I _will. _Let_ me."

He's staring at her with wide eyes; he looks scared, worried, and halfway relieved all at once.

"I…" He glances over her shoulder, and then refocuses on her. "I'm not glad," he says. "I wish you and Kyouko would just…have normal lives, put all of this behind you." Tsuna smiles, a little. "I was so happy when Shouichi said he was going to school with you – I thought that if anyone could convince you that this whole thing was crazy, it'd be him… I guess my intuition isn't all that great."

Haru tilts her head. "Shouichi would do anything for you," she says. She knows the feeling. "If that means convincing me to work for the family, then that's what it means. Don't ever blame him for that."

Tsuna laughs softly. "Everyone will do anything for me."

"Damn straight," Haru says with a nod. "You _deserve_ that much, Tsuna. You don't know how much you deserve it."

"You're letting go of your dream to study physics," he says, shaking his head. "You love your costumes, but you're giving it all away—"

"Friends over wants," Haru says, grinning. "Besides, physics isn't that different from costuming, Tsuna. It's all about bringing order to chaos. I'm good at that."

He nods, eventually, starts to get his normal smile back. Haru ruins that, though, when she starts badgering him for all of the news on the Italian front and asking how soon he's going to get moving on the Namimori base.

* * *

"You talked to Tsuna," he says once the last box has been stowed under her bed.

Haru glances over at him, smiling at his flushed cheeks. "I talked to Tsuna two months ago," she says, leaning against the bed frame. "When school ended."

Shouichi winces. "I've been busy," he mutters. "Spanner came from the States and wanted to go _everywhere_…"

"You're rooming with him this time, right?" Akiko, who is once again Haru's roommate, had begged Haru to find Shouichi a new roommate. The old one had apparently made his move and found a fist for his troubles. "His transfer worked out okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… You're…okay with that?"

"…Yes?"

"I just mean," he adds quickly, "that we, uh, we spent a lot of time together last year, and with Spanner here it could get – it's going to be different," he says lamely, hand drifting behind his head.

"I like Spanner," Haru says. "I think we're going to be fine."

Shouichi smiles slowly, hesitantly.

She tries to ignore how much he looks like Tsuna – the old Tsuna, the fourteen year old that had snatched her heart and locked it up – and concentrates on unpacking the rest of her things.

They've got this year, and the next two, to figure everything _else_ out. Right now all they have to do is graduate and think and become the geniuses the family needs.

(Haru's got plans, she's got _huge_ plans, and while some of them do have to do with flame-powered sewing machines, the rest of them are hinged on the idea that she's going to be a great physicist. The best. She's going to change the future.)


End file.
